


Azam

by Stormraven24



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Character Death, F/M, Flashback, Illness, Romance, Tragedy, canon character death, what if
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-08
Updated: 2013-12-08
Packaged: 2018-01-03 23:36:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1074377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stormraven24/pseuds/Stormraven24
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stacker revisits old memories in the Drift during his last moments. He never thought he would greet death with a smile.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Azam

_After the first kaiju crossed the rift between its universe and Earth the world stopped making sense. Countries that had once been bitter enemies allied with each other to combat the new threat to humanity. Everything science had known to be disprovable fact was disproved. Basic biology and geopolitical divides were rendered useless. But one thing remained constant in Stacker Pentecost’s life, and she was lying right beside him._

_He always woke before her, early rising ingrained into him thanks to his military training; she would have slept until noon if given the chance. He raised one hand and gently moved a lock of dark curly hair from her face. She seemed so tiny when he placed that hand on her bare shoulder, allowing her warmth and the smoothness of her skin to burn into his memory. She was so small, yet he had been completely enraptured with her since they’d first met._

_She had been a speaker at a symposium calling for the human race to band together against the kaiju should more appear, that Trespasser’s emergence from the ocean had been a sign for humanity to get its act together and realize that they weren’t the only sentient life forms out there. Her years as an astrophysicist had earned her respect from others in her field, and her humanitarian efforts had gained her respect from Pentecost. It was that passion to have humanity save itself that led him back to her after the symposium had ended._

_He recalled the day he’d proposed to her as he watched her eyes move beneath her eyelids in REM sleep. He’d never been one for big, flashy shows, especially for something that he believed was to be reserved for more private settings. But something about the way the sunlight hit her face as she sipped her hot chocolate made him stare. Her shy smile when she caught him drew the words from his lips before he could stop himself. They’d gone to the nearest jeweler and picked out a ring five minutes later. Four days after that they’d stood in a courthouse and said “I do” in front of a judge, his sister Luna and friend Tamsin Sevier, and her sister Habibah._

_Azam stirred as he continued trailing his hand over her skin. They smiled at each other when her eyes opened and met his. “Morning,” he said softly._

_She raised herself up enough to look over him at the clock on the nightstand. One look at the glowing red numbers and she fell back onto her pillow with a groan. “Seriously? Six A.M. shouldn’t be allowed to exist.”_

_Stacker rose from the bed with a laugh and dressed. Azam eventually dragged herself from under the sheets and rubbed her hands over her face. Although she’d never been fond of waking up early, she’d been looking more tired than usually lately. He’d just attributed it to the longer hours she’d been putting in at the observatory. She never liked being told to cut back on her research, even by him, so he’d kept his thoughts to himself. He observed her closely while she knotted his tie for him, a sort of tradition for them now._

_“What?” she snapped lightly. “Do I have drool on my face?”_

_He decided to take his chances with her wrath if it meant making sure her health was in proper order. “Darling, the flu’s been going around. Are you sure you haven’t caught it?”_

_Her eyes flashed at the implication. “I’m fine. I’m just tired. Some orange juice and Theraflu and I’ll be alright.” She brushed imaginary dust from his shoulders. “Besides, you have more important things to worry about than me.” He wanted to argue but knew he would get nowhere fast. He just stroked his thumb over her knuckles and raised his eyebrows. She rolled her eyes. “Okay, if it’ll make you stop worrying, I’ll go to the doctor this afternoon. Happy?”_

_He was…until he returned home that night and found her staring at a blank TV screen. “It’s not the flu, Stacker,” she said flatly. “He…He thinks it might be more serious.” He knelt in front of her and grasped her hands in both of his. She seemed to look right through him. “He took some blood. Said it’ll be a few days to confirm or deny it, but…” She couldn’t finish the sentence._

_Cancer. That word was a death knell. It was something that the most brilliant of minds couldn’t figure out how to kill. The human race could band together to kill off giant monsters intent on destroying the planet for God knew what reason, but they couldn’t defeat something as common as cancer. They’d tried chemotherapy, surgery, drugs, and countless radiation trials but nothing worked. And all the while he couldn’t bring himself to tell her that he was suffering from the same disease._

_He sat at her bedside, one of her hands folded in both of his, and watched the life ebb out of her. She’d asked him to tell her about Mako, how she was faring at the Academy and if she was happy to be following in Stacker’s footsteps. He did as she asked, not once letting go of her hand. Only when the doctor and nurses forcibly removed him from his chair did he move._

_Her funeral was nothing more than a hazy memory. Tearful eulogies from colleagues and Habibah seemed to come from deep underwater to him. He barely remembered standing in front of the mourners and delivering his own speech. He did remember, however, how hollow it had felt. He was sure many had thought him cold and detached, but nothing could be more untrue. Habibah and Tamsin were the only ones to approach him without generic condolences. In fact, neither of them said a word. What was there to say? Habibah had seemed to search his eyes for something before embracing him. Tamsin had merely laid a hand on his shoulder._

_Stacker said goodbye to his beloved Azam in private after the mourners had dispersed. He traced the engraving of her name on the small headstone, an acquiescence her family allowed despite being discouraged by more devout relatives. “I’ll see you again, darling.” He may not have been a big believer in Heaven or Hell, but he needed to believe in some kind of afterlife more than ever if only to keep his sanity._

Despite the gravity of his actions now, Stacker couldn’t help but think back to happier times. Azam had been his sanctuary in a world going insane. With Chuck Hansen at his side in Striker Eureka’s Conn-Pod and Mako and Raleigh listening to his final words over the feed (“You can always find me in the Drift.”), he allowed himself a tiny smile. _I’m coming home, Azam._

A push of a button. A blinding light. A burst of energy. Stacker was going home.

**Author's Note:**

> Eh, not my best work, but the imagery wouldn't leave me alone.


End file.
